


And All That's Best of Dark and Bright

by butterflybaby91



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Arranged Marriage AU, ERE Shipping Festival Story, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-05-04
Packaged: 2017-12-10 08:17:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflybaby91/pseuds/butterflybaby91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras and Grantaire have grown up together and fallen in love, but Enjolras' parents have arranged a marriage for him to someone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And All That's Best of Dark and Bright

“Shhh, it’s going to okay,” he soothed, running a hand up and down Grantaire’s back as the man clung to his neck. Grantaire just shook his head from where it lay buried on Enjolras’ shoulder and did not move, “Come on,” Enjolras crooned, “it’s not that bad; we can make this work,” he tried to assure the other man.

Grantaire jerked his head up, staring at Enjolras through bleary eyes, obscured by unshed tears, “No it’s not going to be all right. There’s no way we can make this work. You’re getting _married_ , Enjolras, not…not going on a trip or something—there’s no way,” he spat angrily and hid his face back in Enjolras’ shoulder.

Enjolras did not respond—he was pretty sure he would not be able to over the lump that was forming in his throat—he just pulled his best friend and lover closer and clung to him as he if would float away into nothing without him. Enjolras and Grantaire had grown up together, running around Enjolras’ family’s manor getting into all manner of trouble. Grantaire was the fifth son of a neighboring landlord. He had met Enjolras one day when they were five, after he had temporarily run away from home and had been wandering around the fields that Enjolras was supposed to be surveying with his father. Enjolras had brought the boy back to his own home and declared to his parents and any of the servants that would listen that this was his new best friend and they would be doing everything together from that day forward. And they had. They had been inseparable growing up--even as Grantaire became more jaded and Enjolras became more angry at the state of their world. They would fight, loudly, and often, but at the end of the day, they always found their way back to each other, usually curling up on Enjolras’ bed, hands clasped together in a silent reassuring apology.

It had not been until two years prior, when they were 18 that they had both admitted that their feelings for each other went deeper than friendship. After a party that Enjolras’ parents had hosted where they had both drunk too much, they had fallen into bed together, arms wrapped around each other, which was not too unusual for them. Grantaire did not have a good home to go back to, being the unloved, unwanted younger son that he was, and emotions were the one thing that Enjolras could not express through words, so they had a rather interconnected, tactile friendship. What was unusual was when their lips met for the first time and they traded steadily sloppier kisses, until Grantaire fell asleep, mouth hanging open, as Enjolras pressed his lips, once more to the corner of his mouth, before joining him in the land of Morpheus.

After that night, Grantaire never spent a night in his own home or his own bed, and they had developed a clandestine love that had been easy to hide, due to the years spent building up their friendship. Neither Enjolras’ parents, nor the servants, even thought to question why Grantaire had unofficially moved into their manor and if someone happened to stumble into Enjolras’ room to find the two of them with less clothing on than was generally acceptable in the presence of company, most of the servants liked Enjolras too much to say anything. So they had gone on, foolishly thinking they could be secretly in love for the rest of their lives.

But that apparently was not to be. That morning, Enjolras’ parents had informed him that they had arranged a marriage for him, with some girl named Eponine Thenardier, whose parents were very affluent merchants. Enjolras had been overly shocked—being the only child, the only son, and his parents’ heir, he really should have seen this coming. But, he was always so wrapped up in his studies and Grantaire that it had not even occurred to him that his parents would be expecting to make an advantageous marriage soon. He had protested, tried to get them to reconsider, or push back the wedding, which was taking place very quickly and was planned to occur in two weeks time, but they had held fast and Enjolras had just returned to his room, where Grantaire had been busy painting, to deliver the bad news.

“I’m so sorry Grantaire,” he sighed and squeezed his lover, “I tried to get out of it, but they are holding strong,” Enjolras groaned and rested his forehead on Grantaire’s shoulder, “Goodness knows I don’t want to get married, especially to some unknown girl, she’s probably vapid, shallow, and annoying, but we should have known this would happen one day.”

Grantaire sniffed, “I knew it would happen—I’ve been dreading it since the moment I realized I loved you,” he let out a noise that sounded like a sob, “It’s not your fault—you have to do what you have to do for your family and I’ll still be around, but that will probably be worse. To have had you, loved you, and now to have to go back to being just your friend,” Grantaire shuddered and Enjolras felt his tears soaking Enjolras’ shirt.

“Hey,” Enjolras said softly, tilting Grantaire’s chin up so that he could brush their lips together. Grantaire’s were dried and cracked, and tasted salty and comforting—it almost broke Enjolras’ heart as he felt Grantaire’s hand clench  around his hip as the man deepened the kiss, seeping it full of the desperation he felt. Enjolras broke away first gasping for breath, “I will always love you,” he assured Grantaire, “And arranged marriage be damned, I will figure out a way for us to be together.”

His steely and determined gaze met Grantaire’s broken one. Grantaire sadly shook his head, “I want to believe you, but, you have a duty to fulfill, and I’m not a part of it. I’ll stand in the shadows and support you; be there for you, but this,” he gestured between the two of them and the bed they lay on, “Will have to end. I know that.”

Enjolras just firmly shook his head and clung to Grantaire as they both fell into a fitful slumber.

\---

 _She looks feisty enough_ ; Enjolras thought as he gazed upon his bride for the first time, _maybe this won’t be so bad_. He could only hope. Enjolras stood at the altar of the small village church, watching Eponine make her way down the aisle. She looked like she wanted to be there about as much as he did. She glared at him defiantly as their eyes met and tilted her chin up in the air ever so slightly. Enjolras felt Grantaire, who was standing next to him, as his best man, stiffen, as the girl approached and Enjolras took her hand from her father’s.

“Bonjour mademoiselle,” he whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as they turned to face the priest. He felt the girl’s elbow dig painfully into his side as the ceremony began. Eponine spat out her vows first, saying them almost sarcastically and there was an angry lilt to the curve of her mouth as she finished and glared at Enjolras.

Enjolras felt like he was observing the whole procedure from a faraway place as he muddled through the vows; wishing it was Grantaire standing before him, whom he was saying these words of love and commitment to. He slipped the ring onto her slim finger and she jammed his onto his hand, with a sadistically happy glint in her eyes, apparently trying to discretely hurt him as much as possible throughout the ceremony. Then it was over, and he was pressing his lips to hers and they were whisked back up the aisle. Enjolras turned to look behind him as they exited the church and as he saw the space and people between him and Grantaire growing wider he felt his stomach clenching painfully. He could only hope the plan he had formulated would work.

\---

The afternoon celebrations passed in a blur, where Enjolras had to spend far too much time away from Grantaire and with the angry little brunette who was now his wife. But, luckily, before he knew it, it was evening, and he was alone with the girl in his bedchamber.

As she began undressing, Eponine turned to glare at Enjolras, for what had to be the hundredth time that day, “I didn’t want this you know,” she spat, “If my damn father hadn’t gone and bankrupted us, he wouldn’t have had to sell me off to be your wife. Opps,” she exclaimed sarcastically, hand flying over her mouth as if to trap the words she just said inside, “I guess I shouldn’t be telling you he hoodwinked your parents into this marriage to save my family’s finances,” she smirked at him.

Enjolras just smiled softly—he knew his parents had known all about Eponine’s families troubles. His parents were caring people; part of the reason they had agreed to the marriage was to rescue this girl from her abusive parents. They had explained all this to Enjolras the day after they first informed him of the match. That information had steeled his determination to go through with the marriage—he hated the thought of this girl under the thumb of a tyrannical father.

Anyway now it was over and done with, so he figured it was about time to implement the plan he had come up with over the past few weeks, “Oh well,” he replied, as he also began preparing for bed, “Guess we’re both stuck in a situation, neither of us wanted, forced together by our parents,” he drawled and Eponine gave him a strange look.

“Aren’t you mad?” she asked incredulously.

Enjolras shook his head, “That your parents lied? No, my parents have many more connections than you think—they were aware. As for being forced into this marriage—my anger at that has subsided over the past two weeks. In fact,” he paused, watching the startled girl standing before him, “I have an idea I wanted to propose to you,” he said.

“What is it?” she mumbled, slipping out of her dress and into a nightgown.

Enjolras cleared his throat, suddenly nervous that she would be offended or angry, but he braced himself and began, “Well it seems we are both irate with our parents for forcing us into this and I have an idea for how to mock them all with our relationship,” he trailed off. Eponine looked at him face suddenly full of interest.

“Go on,” she urged.

“I have a…a friend…I assume, who has been much more than a friend to me for the past two years and well now I have you as well,” the girl grimaced at the phrase of ownership, which pleased Enjolras to no end, “And I am suggesting that the three of us form somewhat of a clandestine relationship. None of our parents will know, but at the same time it will be making somewhat of a sham out of our relationship.”

Eponine sighed, looking less than pleased with the suggestion, “It would be, you’re right, and this whole affair can’t get worse than it already is, so maybe adding a third person to the dynamic will make it better—who is this girl?” she asked.

Enjolras smiled, “It’s not a girl,” he informed her, delighting in the way her face contorted and her whole air shifted from one of polite indifference to enraptured interest.

“Oh,” she murmured, “So you lean that way. Is it the boy who was your best man? I was wondering—he looked positively dreadful during the wedding. If it’s him than I accept your proposition whole-heartedly—he looks like much more fun than you,” she sneered at him, but her eyes held a teasing smile.

“It is. His name is Grantaire and he has been my best friend my whole life. He is the youngest son of a neighboring land lord and practically lives here now, because they don’t want him. I’m glad you agree with this idea,” he smiled at his wife, walking over to squeeze her shoulder and then brush past to the door, “Let me go fetch him.”

He was back five minutes later, dragging a reluctant Grantaire, who still did not believe that Enjolras’ pretty new wife had consented to adding him to their relationship, but the moment they entered the door, Eponine pounced on him. Her hands began carding through Grantaire’s thick curls, trialing down his neck, squeezing his biceps, “Ooo,” she cooed, “You’re so much more handsome than Enjolras,” she informed him, to which Grantaire barked out a laugh, “So I get to be married to the both of you basically?” she asked eyes filled with delight.

Grantaire shrugged, looking Enjolras in the eye as he answered, “I guess. If you want that.”

Eponine was nodding emphatically and had Grantaire and Enjolras each by the hand, dragging them to the bed before she answered, “Most definitely. Well, him,” she jabbed a finger at Enjolras, “Him I have to be married to, but you look like fun, so maybe you can make this bearable.” She plopped down on the bed and they both followed

Grantaire laughed and began undressing, “Enjolras is a lot more fun than he looks I assure you,” he conspiratorially whispered to Eponine, “You should hear some of the kinky stuff he’s suggested we do before.”

She turned to her husband, eyes alight, “Is that so? Maybe I’ve missed judged you.”

Enjolras groaned, worried about what he had gotten himself into, as all three of their sets of garments, fell to the ground and they sat on the bed in a row, staring at each other. Enjolras awkwardly cleared his throat, “So what do we do now?” he asked.

Eponine sighed, “You two can start, since you’ve done this before I assume?” they both nodded, “Go on,” she urged.

Grantaire looked at Enjolras amusedly, and pulled him into a long kiss. Enjolras’ tongue swept along Grantaire’s bottom lip and entered his mouth as Grantaire’s hands became entangled in Enjolras’ golden curls. He fell back against the mattress, barely missing hitting Eponine, as he pulled Grantaire down on top of him. After a minute, Grantaire broke the kiss and reached to the side to grab Eponine, and pull her into their embrace. He kissed her for some time, as Enjolras watched, his hands trailing over both their backs.

It was Eponine who broke that kiss and turned to Enjolras, “Hello husband,” she hummed, pulling his lips to hers. They kissed softly for a while, until Enjolras felt Eponine’s teeth graze his lip and he moaned. As he did, Grantaire was at his side, lips connecting to his neck, sucking and biting the skin there. Enjolras managed to turn so that Eponine ended up underneath him, as he straddled her hips. He looked down at her, a little unsure of what to do, never having been with a girl before. Grantaire did not have the same uncertainly and reached up to gently cup one of Eponine’s breasts, as she let out a slight moan. Enjolras copied his motions, until Eponine was writhing underneath both boys’ hands.

“Please,” she managed to gasp as her hands twisted into the bed sheets.

Enjolras looked at Grantaire again; his eyes wide, a bit scared of how they were going to do this. Grantaire smirked at him, “Here let me,” he mumbled, shoving Enjolras off Eponine’s hips and positioning himself in between her legs. Startled, Enjolras helplessly watched for a few moments, as Grantaire thrust into her again and again and Eponine cried out.

Suddenly, he could no longer keep his hands to himself and he surged forward, fingers and lips connecting with every bit of skin he could between the pair, roaming frantically, as their cries became louder. A rational part of his brain worried that someone might hear them, but he could not focus on that just then, as Eponine reached up and took him in hand, causing him to groan and slow his perusal of their bodies.

They did not last long with three sets of hands, wandering over heated skin and soon they all three lay in a heap, spent, sweaty, and happy. Eponine propped herself up on her elbows and gazed at the two boys who lay with an arm around each other, eyes closed, just on the verge of sleep, “Hey,” she said, causing them both to pop an eye open to look at her warily, “That was great and all and now I’m really looking forward to living here, but it would be better if I could be included in your post sex cuddle pile,” she informed them.

Enjolras grinned, “Yes of course. Sorry about that—habit you know,” he said as he pulled her in between Grantaire and him. The three fell asleep together, with their arms wrapped around each other, all happy in their new odd little relationship, somehow, now sure that this was going to work out and everything was going to be okay. 


End file.
